Romitri One Shot: Russian Bread
by pinkie1012
Summary: This is my first fanfic - Dimitri and Rose in their apartment after Spirit Bound, but before any of the Bloodlines plot starts. I loved the idea of him making the black Russian bread with her (or for her), so this is it.
I awoke, hesitantly, not wanting to be awake just yet. I rolled over to embrace Dimitri hoping for a bit more time in bed with him. Instead, I found only the bare sheets. I let out a sigh of disappointment _._ As my senses came to me, the scent of brewing coffee filled the air. I resisted the urge to stay in bed – it was our day off after all – and pulled my legs around the side of the bed into a pair of slippers. I grabbed the robe that had been tossed on my bedside floor and loosely tied it around my waist. A glance to the other side of the bed let me know that Dimitri's robe hung neatly on the wall next to the bed. He's dressed already? I shuffled my way into the bathroom to at least give myself a once over before he saw me.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth and ran my hand through my hair a bit until it looked slightly more presentable. I made my way through the living area to the kitchen. Guardian quarters in the palace were small, but not cramped. We had everything we needed and a bit more. A master suite sat on one end of the apartment, the living area in the center and the kitchen on the far end, opposite the bedroom. The length of the apartment was lined with large windows overlooking one of the courtyards of the palace. The view, I had a feeling, had something to do with my close friendship with the Queen. Dimitri was assigned his own quarters, but he rarely used them. It was more of a formality that each royal guardian have their own 'place'.

I made my way, barefoot, to the kitchen and stopped in the entryway. To my happy surprise, Dimitri had not gotten dressed. He was standing over the counter in a pair of black briefs, his back to me. I stood, leaning my shoulder against the door frame, admiring him.

"Sneaking out of bed early, Comrade?"

He turned his head, a sly smile creeping into the corner of his lips. Oh, those lips. He made the few steps to cross the kitchen to me, wrapped an arm around my waist and placed a kiss just beneath my ear. I felt us both shudder for a moment. He skimmed his lips across the line of my jaw bringing them to mine. His smell ran through me, laced with the scent of the coffee. I never took to coffee the way he did, but the smell of it on him seemed to only heighten my desire. I breathed him in deeply and ran my hands over his smooth chest to his neck where I wrapped my fingers together and let my arms hang. This was bliss.

He turned his cheek to mine and whispered in my ear. "Good morning, Roza." He returned to the counter, and I noticed a large wooden cutting board with a mass of black on it. I was very unfamiliar with our – well _my_ – kitchen. I rarely tried my hand at cooking. Most of the time, we had our meals with Lissa and Christian, or with the other guardians. Our life here was easier – following Lissa to council meetings and to and from her classes at Lehigh. Threats were still possible, but with the number of guardians surrounding the Queen, the threat was much less. Despite the monotony of our new guardian life, these days with just the two of us were fairly rare. I watched Dimitri move around the kitchen with ease. I realized it was the same way he moved as a guardian with intent and control – it was beyond sexy.

I crossed the kitchen to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades.

"What are you up to? This is our day off – I figured we might spend a little more of it naked and in bed." He pulled me around in front of him, with my back towards his chest and ran his hands down my arms.

"We will."

I was between him and the counter, facing the cutting board and I realized what was sitting in front of me. It was the bread his mother had made while I visited Baia. "You're making Russian bread?" I turned my face to his to see a flash of surprise followed by understanding and a warm smile.

"Yes. My mother taught me."

"I know, she said it was your favorite." His eyes went distant and the briefest smile crossed his lips. We hadn't talked much about his family – other than the conversation we had when he was still Strigoi. I knew the topic was painful for both of us. Despite both of our feelings of forgiveness, there was still a delicacy with which we addressed that time in our lives.

"It is." He pulled my hands to the dough and began to teach me how to knead it, pressing the balls of his hands into mine and turning the dough. His instruction was physical, not verbal, and we stood together in silence while he taught me. Occasionally, I would press my body into to his, and we would become briefly distracted by our closeness. Our attention would return to the task in front of us. I never thought cooking could be so sensual. Maybe it was time for me to spend more time in the kitchen.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I think we're finished here. Now, we let it rise." He pulled away from me placing the dough in a bowl and covering it. I pulled myself up onto the counter as he finished, crossing my ankles and letting my feet dangle. He leaned back against the counter opposite me for a moment, each of us admiring each other. The tie on my robe had loosened, allowing a peek at the black lace bra I was wearing underneath. The nature of Guardian life didn't lend itself to lace bras and barely there panties, but I made sure to keep a few on reserve for these rare days that we could stay holed up in our apartment.

He crossed the kitchen to where I sat on the counter, placed his hands on either side of my neck and leaned down to kiss me like he'd been waiting all morning for the chance. As he kissed me along the jaw, up and down my neck, his fingers slowly moved down, over my collarbone, pulling away my already revealing robe. His fingers barely traced my skin, moving down my chest between my breasts and lingered on my scar. He always lingered there. His hands continued their path downward, pulling the tie of my robe and brushing lightly against my stomach. As he reached my knees, he pulled them apart with a force that confirmed his desire and pushed his hips between my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his waist pulling him closer as he slid both hands up the outside of thighs to my hips.

I lifted my face to his, lips parting into a smile. "Shall we proceed with the rest of our plans for today?" I pulled my arms up to his neck as he lifted me off the counter.

"We have one hour." He carried me through our apartment to the bedroom, our lips locked passionately.

 _One hour,_ I thought. Maybe this cooking thing wasn't so good after all.


End file.
